


A Picture Says A Thousand Words But All I Need Is One

by jive



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2016-12-19
Packaged: 2018-09-09 17:18:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8901748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jive/pseuds/jive
Summary: Gabriel always keeps a pen and two notebooks on him at all times. He takes notes in one — observations, strategies, thoughts, and other miscellaneous details he deems important enough to record — and the other is beyond anyone’s guess. Anyone that Gabriel does not know personally, anyway.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TornThroughTheSwan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TornThroughTheSwan/gifts).



> A Secret Santa gift for my buddy [Vosianbird](http://vosianbird.tumblr.com/). Merry Christmas, my dude!

Gabriel always keeps a pen and two notebooks on him at all times. He takes notes in one — observations, strategies, thoughts, and other miscellaneous details he deems important enough to record — and the other is beyond anyone's guess. Anyone that Gabriel does not know personally, anyway. 

Those in Gabriel's inner circle of friends know exactly what's in the other moleskine notebook even though Gabriel makes it a point to never show anyone. He never shows anyone, but that never stops them from sneaking peeks when he has it open, when he's so engrossed in what he's doing that he pays little attention to the world around him. It's a minor invasion of privacy, sure, but Gabriel's never told them off directly for it when he catches them looking, and they respect his boundaries enough to not look through it without permission.

It's a sketchbook, more or less, each and every page is filled with countless doodles, drawings, and pieces of artwork all meticulously done by Gabriel himself. 

Over the years, Gabriel's accumulated and filled so many of these sketchbooks — all identical save for the roman numerals on their covers and spines — that he has a shelf in his room dedicated to storing them. He never fails to see the slightly curious and longing look Jack always gives that shelf whenever he stops by or spends the night, but like all the others, Jack has never asks directly to see them, and Gabriel never offers. The sketchbooks, like Gabriel himself, are private things that Gabriel holds close to his chest, and regardless of how close they've become over these years, Jack knows better than to ask, already knowing Gabriel’s answer.

* * *

 

“I hope to see them one day,” Jack sighs wistfully one morning, playing with the soft black curls on Gabriel's head. Gabriel pretends not to hear, feigning sleep as he enjoys the gentle touches of Jack's fingers through his hair. 

“Maybe one day you'll show me…” The slight longing he hears in Jack's voice stays with him, even after Gabriel awakens from his faked slumber to pull Jack closer to him and catching his lips with his own. They spend the rest of that morning together rather lazily, doing little more than enjoy each other's company in what little free time they have together before Jack gets called to tend to his Strike Commander duties.

He catches Jack shooting a quick, wistful glance over at the shelf as he shrugs on that obnoxious blue duster and bids him a, “See you later,” before the door slides shut behind him.

* * *

Gabriel doesn't ever catch Jack looking at the shelf again after that, but Jack does surprise him one day, months later when the both of them are in the common room. 

“Can I see?” Jack asks quietly, not looking away from the movie on the holo-display. Gabriel looks up from the sketchbook he has propped atop of Jack's legs resting in his own lap. He tell Jack's stopped paying attention to it long ago with how unfocused his eyes are and the way Jack tries to sneakily look at him from the corner of his eyes. A frown makes its way on Gabriel's face before he can help it, and Jack immediately looks away. 

“Nevermind,” he says before Gabriel even has a chance to respond. It's obvious that he's trying his best to sound bored — Jack never was that good at hiding his emotions from Gabriel, after all — and he lets out a quiet sigh as he changes the channel. He says nothing more after that, and doesn't even spare Gabriel any more glances so long as the sketchbook remains open. 

Gabriel frowns a little, but it doesn’t take long for his pen to go back to moving across the pages.

* * *

The light on his communicator blinks in the middle of the meeting — a presentation about something or another Gabriel doesn't care much about from a UN council member that he isn't particularly fond of either — and Gabriel picks his pen up from the sketchbook in his lap to tap at the screen with the non-writing end of his pen.

_ [ What are you drawing? ] _

It's a message from Jack, who’s sitting two seats adjacent from him across the large table and looking utterly bored out of his mind as he faces the presentation being given at the front of the room.

Gabriel frowns for a moment and quickly types a message back before going back to pretending he's taking notes on the sketchbook.

_ [[ Nothing. You should pay more attention to the presentation than to me,  _ amado _. ]] _

He doesn't even need to glance up to know that there's likely a small frown on Jack's face when he reads Gabriel's message.

Not a second later, Gabriel’s communicator blinks again and he goes to check Jack's response. 

_ [ :( ] _

* * *

Months come and go after that, and no mention of the sketchbook ever comes up again in any of their conversations. 

Jack wakes up Christmas morning, finding himself gently coaxed to consciousness by Gabriel pressing gentle kisses against the corner of his mouth and against his temple.

"Wake up, Sunshine,” Gabriel coos, running his hand through Jack's messy hair. He's uncharacteristically cheerful for — Jack blearily looks over to the clock on the nightstand, which reads in bright, red numbers — 0632, even for Christmas which sets off alarm bells in Jack's mind.

“Babe?” he asks, finding himself wide awake. He sits up, covers pooling around his naked waist, and looks at Gabriel with concern. “What's wrong?”

Gabriel’s eyebrows rise considerably as if confused. “What do you mean?”

“You're up… awfully early for our day off. We could've slept in,” Jack replies, wary. There's a glint to Gabriel's eyes that he knows can never mean anything good; he’s clearly up to something.

“I can't get up early?” Gabriel asks, slipping into his side of the bed. He's hiding something behind his back, but before Jack can even ask what it is, Gabriel cuts him off with a kiss to the mouth. Something flat gets pressed into his hands. “Merry Christmas, Jackie.”

“Merry Christmas,” Jack echoes. A warm feeling wells in Jack's chest for a brief moment as he glances down at the nicely-wrapped present before a realization settles in. “I left your present under the tree. Should I go get it?”

Gabriel shakes his head, smiling. “Nah,” he replies, “You can give it to me later.”

“Are you sure?” Jack's fingers toy with a corner of the wrapping paper.

“I'm sure,” Gabriel nods, kissing Jack on the temple, “Open it.” It doesn’t escape Jack’s notice how much more affectionate he is than usual this morning, but he says nothing about it, not wanting to spoil a good thing. 

“Oh wow, seriously?” Jack asks, those baby blues of his widening when the last bit of wrapping paper gets torn off of Gabriel's present.  _ LXXVI _ is embossed in gold on the familiar black, moleskine cover, and Jack can't help but run his fingers over them. 

There's no mistaking it. It's one of Gabriel's sketchbooks.

He looks up at Gabriel curiously, as if checking to make absolutely certain that Gabriel is sure about giving such an important item to him. When he's answered with a warm laugh and a nod, Jack wastes no time in opening it up.

It's only the first page and already his breath is taken away at the beautiful artwork he finds inside. He had always known that Gabriel was a masterful artist, but seeing such a stunning rendition of the ocean view from Watchpoint: Gibraltar at sunset — done in pen, no less! — astounds him. He turns the page and is greeted with a plethora of different sketches of all their friends. Each and every one is photo-realistic and matches their appearances to a tee, and Jack can only laugh when he turns the page to find a sketch of himself with his mouth stuffed with french fries.

“I can't believe you!” he says, slapping Gabriel gently on the arm. Gabriel says nothing and merely turns the page for him. More sketches of Jack litter the paper sheets, and Jack's face flushes when he gets to a particularly embarrassing sketch of him half-asleep at his desk. 

He scolds Gabriel, who says nothing in reply beyond a, “Keep going,  _ cariño _ ,” and Jack can only oblige.

He spends a good long while, turning page after page of the sketchbook, marveling at Gabriel's talent. He feels his face heat up more and more when it hits him that he's showing up more and more often in the book until literally there are nothing but sketches of him littering the pages.

His heart nearly stops when he opens to a two-page spread of him peacefully sleeping — _ “When did you do this…?” _ — with a smile on his face. There’s so much love and care emanating from the pages that he feels his heart clench, and his chest flood with emotion. 

Jack turns the page, and immediately his heart stops. Gabriel watches him carefully, his own breath held in anticipation. 

“Yes!” Jack shouts, “Yes! Yes! Of course, you idiot!” Tears form at the corner of his eyes as he turns to tackle Gabriel into a tight embrace. He nearly cries with joy as his lips meet Gabriel's over and over again, and Gabriel reciprocates with just as much elation and enthusiasm.

The present falls to the bed temporarily forgotten as they embrace each other happily. There is a hole cut into the rest of the pages of the book, containing a beautifully stunning gold band, and above it reads the question that Gabriel had been waiting for only god-knows-how-long to ask.

**_Jack Morrison,_ **

**_Will you marry me?_ **

The gold ring glistens in the sunlight seeping in from between the blinds, bearing witness to a love that had been burning for so long and would undoubtedly continue to last beyond a lifetime.


End file.
